


the museum

by bluebeholder



Series: the accidental epic [33]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Creature Smugglers, F/M, Ominous Portentous Endings, Sirens, the Smithsonian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/pseuds/bluebeholder
Summary: On the hunt for creature smugglers, Newt and Tina break into the National Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C.This goes about as well as you might expect.





	the museum

**Author's Note:**

> TECHNICALLY I AM STILL PAR FOR THE COURSE ON THE HAMILTON CHALLENGE, SO SHHHHHHH.
> 
> Have a fic.
> 
> It's creature shenanigans. We all need some lighthearted creature shenanigans in our lives. <3<3<3

 

“Newt, this is the _worst possible idea_ ,” Tina hisses, peering around the corner of the building.

“We’ll be _fine_ ,” he replies in an undertone. He’s rummaging about in the suitcase, in the ordinary half, and Tina’s hair is standing on end.

“We are standing in _the middle of Washington D.C.!_ ” Tina feels a little hysterical, and she thinks she’s perfectly justified. “And you’re breaking us into the _National Museum of Natural History_!”

Newt stands up, snapping the suitcase closed as he goes decisively. “Yes, I am,” he says. “We know that this is the creature-smuggling front, and if we don’t do something now…”

Tina scrubs her face with her hands. “Don’t lecture me. Let’s just get this over with.”

Arm in arm, they walk around the corner and stroll down the sidewalk, arm in arm. The streets of the city are dark around them, a perfect cover for this heist. Generally, the magical community of America avoids the No-Maj capital; it seems rather stupid to get so close to their seat of power. Of course there are undercover Aurors among President Hoover’s staff and the President of MACUSA has to meet with him regularly, but as a general whole witches and wizards don’t tend to come around these parts. In the end, the practical effect of this is that they won’t be recognized by wizards.

The great dome rises above them, the entrance flanked by grand pillars; they ignore these locked front doors. Newt knows where a staff entrance is, and that’s what they’re going to use to get inside so that they don’t get spotted by any No-Maj staff. Tina’s wand, hidden in the pocket of her long slacks, pokes her hip as if in reminder. They can’t afford to be caught or noticed by anyone. A fight will draw too much attention and that’s certainly not something they can afford.

The back door opens without fanfare and a quick “Alohomora”. It creaks a bit in the silence and they both freeze, peering around the corner into the dark museum.

“Lumos Minima,” Tina whispers. A small, focused light flares up on her wand. Shadows ripple beyond its faint illumination; this is better than a straightforward light charm.

“I’ve never heard that one before,” Newt says, following her inside with careful steps. “Modifier for spell miniaturization?”

“I heard it from Graves,” Tina says. She glances around. This is just a back door, tucked away from sight of the viewing public. Round the corner there will be the collections, the magnificent curiosities that Tina’s only ever heard about. She can’t deny her excitement.

Newt gives a small snort. “The irony of that man inventing a minimizer…”

“Right?” Tina says. She steps around the corner and stops breathing. “Newt…

By this time, Tina’s been traveling with Newt for almost four years. She’s seen an awful lot. The beauties of the world, the paragons of animals. From the tiniest beetles to the most impossible titans, it feels like there’s nothing she hasn’t seen.

Yet these creatures, these long-dead bones, still inspire a heart-stopping awe. All down the long, dark hall they stand, eerie silent shadows in the light of Tina’s wand. They loom: monsters with three-horned faces and sharp teeth, grotesque horns, long necks that stretch up to the sky. On the walls are mounted flat sheets of stone with bones in them, and paintings of what these beasts, these terrible lizards, must have looked like when they still lived.

“I sometimes think that if I were a No-Maj I’d have ended up a paleontologist,” Newt murmurs.

They begin their trek down the hall. It’s downright creepy, really. Their shoes click on the floor, loud in the silence of the museum. Somewhere distant, there’s the sound of a night guard whistling, but there’s no worry at all about him. A No-Maj guard will be easily fooled by a Disillusionment Charm and perhaps a little Memory Modification.

When the first floor has been thoroughly scoured, they head up to the second floor, and finally to the third. Going is slow, because although the guards wouldn’t present any kind of challenge neither Tina nor Newt particularly wants the holdup. So they slip among the exhibits, works of art and natural curiosities, looking for anything out of the way.

It’s in the north wing that they find what they’re looking for, in a room far away from doors and probably beyond the casual reach of a museum patron. An exhibit is covered, hidden behind a curtain; this must be it. There’s no one around, so Tina takes hold of the cloth and yanks it down. The fabric billows to the floor. Behind it is a tank, full almost to the top with slightly brackish water. Inside, half illuminated by Tina’s wand-light and obscured by the cloudy water, are shimmering shapes that transfix Tina the moment she sees them.

At the sight, Newt makes an outraged sound. “Sirens! They’re smuggling _sirens_!” he hisses.

Tina stares at the beings as the five, visibly curious, press their hands against the glass. They’re beautiful, long and streamlined, with waving manes of colorful fins and feelers that resemble flowing hair at a distance. They look like women, beautiful ones, though their eyes and teeth mark them as something…else. “I’ve never seen them before!”

Newt shakes his head. “They’re very rare, very shy…unless they’re hunting. But big ships don’t sink so easily so they’ve turned to other things…you can still hear their songs on certain beaches, if you’re careful and quiet. They should count as beings, really, I’ve spoken to many, but no one really bothers with them. Unless people are trying to…well, keep them…”

It takes a moment for the implications of that to sink in.

“There had better be space in the suitcase for them,” Tina growls. She rolls up her sleeves and thinks on it. “Have we still got that damn giant bathtub?”

They do, in fact, still have the damn giant bathtub. It takes a little bit of time to drag it and fill it up, and Tina has to do that alone. Newt is communicating with the sirens, helping them understand that they’re safe in the suitcase. But by the time that Tina emerges, all five sirens are enthusiastically on board with getting out of here.

Each of the creatures stands slightly shorter than Queenie, but slimmer and lacking any mammalian attributes. They aren’t slimy at all, simply wet and slick to the touch. Newt climbs into the tank to help them, barely bothering to take off his coat as he goes. With his help, boosting them out, they slide over the side and down to Tina. The sirens are light, fine-boned as fish, but their claws and spines catch on Tina’s clothes. They aren’t built for land life and can’t walk away alone.

She helps them down into the suitcase and into the bathtub. It will be crowded but that’s something they can fix once they’re out of the museum. For now, it’s the order of business to get down and make sure they’re safe.

Four of the five are safe in the suitcase when everything goes wrong. Tina is just helping the last one down when someone behind them shouts, “ _Stop!_ ”

On total instinct she lets the siren go, the creature crashing to the ground, and whirls around to face the new threat. “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

A wand goes flying and a man yells. But there are three other wizards, and they’re all yelling, preparing to strike, and Newt’s wand _is not on him_ and the suitcase full of creatures _is open_ —

Tina charges the wizards.

She hits one with a Jelly-Legs Jinx on pure surprise, but these aren’t weak wizards. They know what they’re doing, smugglers of deadly creatures, and Tina knows immediately that she could be in real trouble if this goes from two-on-one to a three-on-one. But there’s no time: a Stunning Spell hurtles over her shoulder and she’s in the thick of the melee. Gouging Spell that misses and a second Disarming Charm that hits but does nothing when another of the wizards catches it. Someone animates the ropes that were holding up the sheet over the tank and Tina slashes through them and narrowly ducks a blast of white light that would have taken off her head.

Behind her there’s splashing and screaming and no time to look. There are footsteps and Newt, soaking wet, appears beside her. He shouts and lighting snaps out from his wand, hot and blinding, and one of the smugglers screams. He hits the ground and doesn’t move.

“What are you doing!?” Tina cries, ducking a conjured spear. “Protego!”

“What I have to!” Newt slashes his wand through the air, turning back to the siren where she’s dragging herself toward the suitcase. “Finite Incantatem!”

From the siren behind them there is an eerie, howling cry. It wavers, up and up and up, into a terrible song. The museum _fills_ with the sound, pealing with it like a bell, and Tina is entranced. But not as badly as the smugglers. The three remaining men stop in their tracks, one in the act of casting a spell. As one, they close their eyes, smiles falling over their faces.

“Why not us?” Tina whispers, afraid of breaking the spell.

Newt shakes his head. “Sirens can choose who they affect,” he says softly. “And they’d prevented her singing. Silencing Charms all around. But when she can sing…”

Tina nods, backing toward the suitcase. She crouches and helps the siren up, the voice so close it’s making her bones shake. “Come on,” she breathes.

They get out of the museum, leaving the smugglers where they fell. Let the Aurors handle the cleanup: no one needs to know that Newt and Tina were ever there. For now, the two of them take refuge in their hotel room, fixing the sirens’ new habitat and making it more palatable. Their singing, when it isn’t meant to stun people, is really pretty.

Newt goes up to the room for a moment, to find a change of clothes, and when he comes back down he’s got a letter. “It’s from Queenie,” he says. “I didn’t know this was coming.”

“I gave her where I thought we’d be, but I didn’t think she’d actually send us a letter,” Tina says, taking the envelope. She breaks the seal and opens it, scanning the lines. It’s so obvious that there are things going on here that Queenie won’t say in a letter, but the tone is—alarming.

“I think,” Newt says, looking over her shoulder, “that we _really_ ought to go to London.”

**Author's Note:**

> Had to get creative with some of this, since I couldn’t actually find a layout of the museum in 1930 itself. This much I do know: as of 1930, the building only had 3 wings; funding for expansion was approved in ’30 but not appropriated until 1960. And I used these pictures as a guide to some of the jaw-dropping exhibits of the time…
> 
> [Look here to see the blue whale!](https://naturalhistory.si.edu/onehundredyears/profiles/whales_si.html) Newt and Tina didn't, but we all should. :3
> 
> For the Hall of Extinct Monsters, you can have [this image](https://siarchives.si.edu/collections/siris_sic_10016) or [this one](https://siarchives.si.edu/collections/siris_sic_8266).
> 
> Finally, if you're interested in knowing the building history, [the Smithsonian has your back](https://naturalhistory.si.edu/onehundredyears/brief_history.htm).


End file.
